I Hide The Marks Upon My Arms

She moved about the Woodland farm at a sedated pace. Inferno was in his paddock, a safe place for him. Musing silently to herself, the young woman began to drag a log into the middle of the driveway. She looked all about her and spotted another thing she needed; blocks. She half carried half dragged concrete blocks over to the log and set it up, making a small jump. It wasn't very tall but it would have to make due until she could find real jumps for Inferno. Enjoying her little game, she sauntered over to Inferno's paddock with a saddle and bridle over her arms along with a small blanket. She rarely used these, but for now she needed to. She wanted him to be used to both saddle and no saddle. Letting loose a piercing whistle to call the stallion to her, she waited, throwing the saddle over the railing of the fence a sugar cube in hand.

Devour The Dead

The black mare, smaller and thinner then Psyche but just as beautiful raised her head to Aralyn's whistle. Seeing it not being Conan, she lowered her head once more and munched on the green grass. They all shared the same paddock, something the young mare was greatful for. Diega trying to eat her had spooked her well enough that she stayed near to the others or out in the middle of the paddock where there was no long grass and nothing could sneak up on her.

Can you feel it?

Psyche heard Aralyn's whistle as well but it was not her whistle. Lowering her head back down she glanced to Inferno to make sure he answered Aralyns call. She was near the stallion, as close as the hispano-arabe dared. She liked him, even though the apathetic female didnt want to admit it.

We Are One

Conan was curled in the loft again. He was never really comfortable indoors, and had adopted the loft as his sleeping place. Moaning a bit, he twitched in his sleep and rolled over, twisting and turning.

With a sudden start he awoke, and jumped to his feet. Unfortunately, his rolling had tangled him in the old saddle blanket he used for a cover. With a low cry he tumbled over the edge of the loft, doing a nice nose-dive off. But, good luck was with him, and there was a nice pile of hay at the bottom that cushioned his fall. He permitted himself a grunt as he hit the hay, stretching each limb carefully before finally getting to his feet, more carefully this time.

His face was still pale as he headed out to greet Ammit, hoping that Aralyn hadn't seen. Heading out to the paddock and hopping the fence with ease, he let out a peircing whistle of his own, one a half-tone higher than Aralyn's that was his call to Ammit. He was still trembling from the nightmare and needed Ammit's reassuring bulk beside him.

Aralyn turned to see Conan just as he landed beside her. With a soft smile to him she continued to wait for her massive albino stallion. Her gaze roamed the land however, for another. It had been nearly three months since the last time Malon had been seen. Aralyn had given up hope on ever seeing her faithful companion again.

Ammit's head flew up and her gaze landed upon Conan. With a whinny of joy, she flew past Inferno and Psyche and slide to a halt next to her master. She nuzzled him then whuffled in his hair taking in his scent of hay and man. He was hers, and hers alone. No one could lay claim upon the boy. Not while the spirited mare was around.

Psyche continued to eat the grass beneath her and she glanced to Inferno. Her ears flicked back as if a signal to him. go

Conan gave Aralyn a half-hearted sile that came out as a grimace, and turned away quickly so that she would not see his face. He had lost his calm visage, and could not seem to reclaim it. He didn't want the woman to see. Turning his pale face away from Aralyn, he turned to go to Ammit.

Conan did not possess the strength to smile at his mare just now, for the horridness of his dream was still upon him. Instead, he drew his hand up over her withers and turned his face into her neck, breathing in her smell as a root into this world that would make the dream fade away. He whispered quietly to himself, trying to make the trembling stop. It was a dream. Dreams aren't real. They can't hurt you. It was a dream. Dreams aren't real. They can't hurt you. He wasn't looking around at anyone or anything, nor could he have seen anything had he been looking. He simply clung to Ammit, waiting for his face to regain its composure.

She turned her head and nuzzled him, as if her face were a hand upon his shoulder. She tried her best to comfort him, as she held stock still. Her velvety muzzle brushes his arm and she turned back to face forwards once more, a figure of calm now. She did not prance and move constantly but held almost as if a statue. A big black statue with dark eyes that seemed to hold a greater wisdom beyond bearing.

The boy held tight to her for several moments, that shock of hair waving in the morning breeze. Finally though, he schooled his face back into its mask, and turned out from her to pull tangles out of her mane. He managed the smile this time, speaking softly to her. Fly away, Ammit my girl. That's what I've done. Like ta a cormorant, spread my wings and fly away fly. We'll be okay, you'n me.

His fingers began to braid automatically as the last bit of trembling passed. He plaited a few strands and then stepped away a bit, keeping a hand on her side as he dug in his pocket. After rummaging a bit, he came up with a bit of apple and offered it to her, flat-palmed. He was smiling now, and if he was still a bit pale it might be contributed to the bright sunshine. He knew his horse understood, and that made everything alright.

Ammit seem to smile and she took the apple from him. She munched on it quietly before an idea struck her. As the sun began to fall and the moon rise, a smile fell upon her lips. She lightly nipped his shoulder and her eyes seemed to say stay here. Then the little arab turned and raced to Psyche. After a moment, both mares bobbed their heads and began what they had been practicing. In the moons silver shadow light the mares began to prance around one another in circles before turning gracefull and going in the opposite direction, the moon light shimmering off of their black hides. Ammit turned suddenly, and the two mares were side by side now their steps the same arabian high step and together making it seem as if the two had melted into one. As they made the circuit of the paddock, Ammit stopped and looked to Conan, seeing if he liked their Moon Light Prance.

He relished the tickling sensation against his palm as she scooped up the apple, his smile broadening as the last fear faded from his eyes. He looked up at Ammit as she nibbled his shoulder, using a lifetime with horses to read that she wanted to show him something.

A look of wonder filled his face as he watched the two mares began to weave about in the complicated step pattern, watching the precise unity of their steps and realizing that they had not put this together on the spur of the moment.

As the two mares came round again, he smiled softly at them, all fears forgotten. He was touched that Ammit would put on such a show just for him, and let her see it in his face as he reached up to stroke her nose, speaking softly to Psyche. Thank you, Psyche m'friend. That was beautiful. Then, knowing that Psyche was a one-woman horse, he turned his attention back to Ammit. Quite the treasure I met that day at the prairie, huh? Dancer, racer, and the best friend I've ever had.

The mare bobbed her head at the boy and rubbed her head against his chest. She turned to Psyche and gave a whicker to her friend who just snorted and turned away, trotting back to her place across the field. Secretly, the mare was pleased with the praise but she wasn't about to let it get to her head. Ammit however did. She neighed and began to jitter around her boy, little circles showing off for both him and Aralyn who had remained quiet this entire time. Smiling faintly, she reached out and ran a hand down the entire length of the mare before settling back against the fence, her gaze towards the woods. Softly she hummed and the little mare began to prance around the field once more, in step to the young woman's voice. The tune was soft, and heart breaking. When spoken in words it would bring tears to the eyes of the strongest. But Aralyn did not sing aloud, just kept on humming softly as the full moon cast its shadow upon the girls pale face.

Conan smiled and petted his mare, watching her prance and skitter about. It wasn't until his keen ears caught Aralyn's song that he turned to notice her, and his face grew solemn. All of a sudden he felt as though he had done something wrong, though Aralyn had done nothing to suggest it. He stared fixedly at the ground as a low, whisper escaped him. Sorry...

She jolted, as if coming out of a trance. Her smile was faint as she murmered slightly confused, "For what?" Again her gaze was drawn to the woods as a wolf's song began and the woman felt a deep sadness go through her. She had left Malon at the Wolf Center to heal, and when she went back he was gone. The men would not give her answers, all she had left of her faithful companion was his collar. That had been three months ago. She still had Cookie, yes. But....He wasn't Malon. Aralyn leaned against the fence post and slid down it, until she was sitting upon the ground staring blankly into the woods. Once more, Conan and the horses were forgotten as pain stabbed through her heart.

Conan was startled when she asked him why he had apologized, but before he could answer, she slipped to the ground and her eyes traveled far away. He was about to leave her to her thoughts when something else seemed to make up his mind for him.

Then he did the oddest thing: he laid a gentle hand on Aralyn's arm. He and the older woman had been sharing happy times for several months now, almost in a brother-sister fashion, but they had always kept a formal, respectful distance between them. But he felt that now she needed a special comfort. His voice soft, he spoke. What's wi' you, Aralyn? I've ne'er seen a day that the horses an' the wind an' the sun itself didna brighten your life, make ya happy. His tone implied that she didn't have to share if she didn't want to, but also that he was willing to listen. She had been kind to him as no one else had, and he wanted to help her if he could.

She raised tear filled eyes to meet his own and said softly "He's gone, Conan." She didn't say who, but somehow she knew if the boy looked around he would realize. Malon had never been to far from her side. Always her guardian. She wrapped her arms around her middle and bit her bottom lip. "I left him at the Wolf Center to heal. I went back and he wasn't there." A tear trickled down her cheek leaving a path as she sniffled and brushed it away angry at herself for crying in front of the boy. They weren't that far in years, she was only seventeen. She just made others think she was older by applying make up and hiding the truth. No one could know that she ran away from home. No one.

Her tears startled him, but he left his hand where it was, comforting as best he could, voice soft and sure. Aralyn... all this time your Malon 'as been gone, and y'ave spoken not? Didya think I'd let ya bring my Ammit back ta me and not care that y'are missin' a friend? He sank down beside her, not touching anything but her arm, but still trying to be comforting. He was only fourteen, and a runaway himself. He knew that losing a pet was losing a friend, losing family. Why didn' ya tell me, let me help?

Tears continued to stream down her cheek and she said softly "Because I thought he would just come back. He always comes back. It's been three months though, Conan." She turned her gaze to his and whispered "I'm not used to others help, Conan. It's new to me and...I didn't want to bother you with my problems. You seem burdened enough as it is." In her head she could hear her fathers voice, as if he were right next to her. Come here Angel. You know how it goes. Daddy's little whore. Come here, Angel. The young woman shuddered as if she felt the mans bold carress's and she turned back to the woods. "I'm sorry. For everything."

He watched her carefully, listened to her words, heard in them the truth, and what she believed was the truth.

He closed his eyes for a moment, knowing that she was hurting and realizing that it was not her doing that made her hurt. You seemed burdened enough as it is, she'd said. What could she mean by that?

Finally, a light shone in his mind. Ah, so that's it, he thought. She knows about the nightmares. Maybe not what they're about, but she knows about 'em.

He opened his eyes again, fixing her gaze with his own. Aralyn... I'm not used ta the help of others, either. There's a host a things I'm not used ta, things I've had since I came here. Dry place ta sleep, lots ta eat, a place ta call home. Ne'er had those things before, Aralyn. Ne'er did. You gave 'em ta me, treated me like a person. Now, I'll not have ya apologizin for things that aren't near ta bein your fault.

And he let her see the truth on his face. Really, he wasn't sure whether she was apologizing to him or to the person she obviously feared, but he knew that neither thing was her fault. His voice was a bare murmur as he spoke next. A burden shared is a burden halved, Aralyn. Add Malon and the horses, and ya got a whole load a help. We'll find 'im, Aralyn. We will. And he stood slowly and offered her his hand to raise her from the ground, and to raise her from so many other things. Aralyn was a friend: Conan would help.

She smiled faintly and took his hand, allowing him to pull her up. "Many thanks, young Conan." She spoke as if she was much older then he. Little slut, Angel. If you were like Kodi, none of this would happen. She shook her head to clear the voice of the old man and turning to Inferno, she smiled faintly. She had him now as well. Her new child.

This fear I taste
The day I waste
Why has everything gone so wrong
Denied and shouldered
Bruised and torn
Torn to tatters
These tears I shed in fear
This everlasting darkness
Is my new safe haven